


the echoes belong to someone

by orphan_account



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Apocalypse, Zombies, i'm a sucker for the end of the world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:02:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1329403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which, instead of Pawnee being hit by a financial crisis, the end of the world occurs.</p><p>The zombies are more of a plot device than anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a bright, hot morning when the strangers drove into town. There was no breeze, causing everything to feel abnormally still, and the streets were quiet, although that was hardly a shock. There was just house after empty house, each with its own tangled lawn and chipped paintwork.

The two men in the car wore sunglasses and didn’t speak. There was nothing remarkable about this place; it was yet another ghost town, fading into ruins. The windows were rolled up, despite the air being stale, suffocating - there had been a near miss a week or so back, and there was still blood on the passenger seat. 

Ben, who was riding awkwardly in shotgun, trying not to let his legs touch the brown stain on his seat, did not even know the name of the city they were rolling through. As they were not planning to stay longer than hour, this didn’t bother him. Go in, grab some supplies from wherever the shops had not been completely ransacked, drive out and on. That suited him. He didn’t want to see anyone, be it the living or the living dead. The latter was pretty self-explanatory, but seeing people was never fun either. It meant having to exchange information and Ben did not like explaining that everything was gone, as he always seemed to end up doing. People usually cried, or yelled insults at him. He didn’t know why, it wasn’t his fault.

Chris, his companion, brought the car to a stop by a small store with its windows scattered on the sidewalk in front of it.  
“There is literally no way this isn’t worth checking,” he said, in a low voice. Ben nodded in reply, and patted his belt, where his gun was held. Then, carefully, he opened up the car door and swung himself out, as Chris did the same. They approached the place gingerly; Ben winced slightly as the glass under his feet crunched. The door was already slightly ajar, and Chris went through it first, Ben at his back, facing the street to make sure nothing was coming up behind them. These raids were almost natural for the pair now, and they worked well together, although Ben did feel a slight twinge of guilt when he thought too hard about the fact they were stealing.

They split up once inside the store, and Ben was unsurprised to find almost everything gone, although he did pick a box of matches up from the ground, where it had been kicked under a low shelf. He pocketed it, and made his way back to Chris, who had somehow come across several tins of vegetables and a length of rope. They left the building, and tossed the outcomes of their excursion into the trunk of the car. Ben was about to get back into his seat too, when Chris spoke.  
“I’m going to go for a run now. It seems quiet.”  
“Is that a good idea?” The city did seem deserted, but Ben was all too aware that that did not mean it was safe. Quite the opposite, in fact.  
“Sure, it’ll be fine. I’ll go for a light ten miles. Meet you back here in half an hour.” The last bit was near-shouted, as Chris was already off, and the increase in noise made Ben feel like he should go too, for a few minutes. He walked in the opposite direction to Chris, with his hands resolutely in his pockets, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds.

A couple of minutes’ walk brought Ben to a large stone building, the city hall, if what was carved above the entrance was true. He saw no reason why it wouldn’t be, although he doubted if it was still in use. It reminded him of how he and Chris had met – as state auditors they had slashed budgets, and now they slashed zombies. Or something. He wasn’t very good at puns.

Perhaps it was this thought, the idea of his old life, before they took to the road with even more intensity than previously, that encouraged Ben to approach the place. He went out, into the open, away from the buildings he had been skirting alongside, and instantly felt hot. Too hot. Of course, the sun was beating down intensely, but he was now exposed too, ready for anyone to get him. It was stupid too - there wouldn’t be anyone in the building, or at least, not anyone alive, and he really didn’t want to go exploring without Chris. He glanced at his watch, without really taking the time in, and started back towards the car. 

Then, black.

***

When he awoke (because, of course, Ben had fainted, or been knocked out, or in some other way had his consciousness pulled out from under him) he was propped up on a bench in a hallway, his limbs splayed clumsily away from him. He sat up properly, bringing his knees together, and looked around. A rather vivid mural was painted on the wall in front of him, and Ben wasn’t sure whether the dubious splatters across it were real, or just the blood of its subjects. The place was empty – it seemed he’d been abandoned here – but he could hear the faint humming of speech from further along the hall. He got up, ignoring the nausea he suddenly felt, and unsteadily made his way towards it.  
As he got closer, he could definitely make out Chris’ voice. Whilst he had lost some of his enthusiasm after, well, the end of the world, he was still more cheery than most, and he seemed endlessly determined. The fact Chris was there slightly reassured Ben, and he walked a little faster, towards the open doorway from which conversation spilled. Once outside, however, he hesitated. A plaque informed him that this was the home of the “Department of Parks and Recreation” – presumably this was the city hall he hadn’t gone into earlier. A stranger’s voice, female, caused him to step back, and he paid no attention to what she was saying, wrestling with whether or not to go in. Chris’ response decided it, and he pushed the door open tenderly and cautiously went in.

Other than Chris, there were four people in the room. At the back, filing her nails, sat a black woman who looked very composed – Ben, in his ripped and dusty clothes, felt rather grubby. A sullen-looking girl glared at him, although the unkept state of her clothes, as well as those of a guy she sat next to, made Ben feel more presentable again. The guy beamed.  
“You’re alive!” he said. “We weren’t sure. I tackled you too hard!”  
“Uh-” Ben wasn’t sure how to reply; he wasn’t used to the level of noise the man produced, nor the excitement in his voice. People generally weren’t excited anymore. However, luckily, before he had to respond, Chris jumped in, literally leaping into Ben’s line of sight.  
“Ben Wyatt!” Ben tried to refrain from looking too exasperated – he’d become accustomed to Chris as not crazily enthusiastic, and had been enjoying it. But it seemed he’d relapsed. “This is the wonderful parks and recreation department of Pawnee, Indiana. May I introduce Donna Meagle, April Ludgate, Andy Dwyer and Leslie Knope. They were about to give us a tour.”  
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Ben began, but he was interrupted by the fourth person – Leslie Knope. She was short and blond and seemed to have thrown herself into the whole apocalypse survivor thing. Dark lines were pulled across her cheeks like warpaint, a piece of blue material was tied around her forehead and she had on the heaviest boots Ben had ever seen. Surely that couldn’t actually be practical? She was wearing a pantsuit, for goodness sake.  
“Welcome to Pawnee,” she said, holding out an efficient hand. Ben shook it. “And welcome to City Hall. The handouts I had for the tour were destroyed – we needed to keep the fires going – so we’ll have to improvise.” Her eyes were wide, as was her smile. She looked slightly manic. Ben couldn’t help but think that she was slightly crazy. Not that he blamed her.

April, the sullen one, groaned, and he empathised, but Chris was already agreeing, asking questions, so it seemed they were off. As he walked behind the group, Ben shook his head. For a moment, he’d almost been caught in the illusion that this was normal. An office, sunlight streaming through the unsmashed windows, files piled up, computers, photographs, phones. The sort of place he’d spent eighteen years of his life, circumstances all too easy – all too pleasant – to relapse back into. That was why he liked staying on the road. It was practical, but you couldn’t kid yourself when you drove daily through the smouldering ruins of towns, lives. Hide yourself away and all too soon, madness would descend. At least this lot seemed harmless.

In fact, Leslie Knope seemed more than harmless. She seemed helpful. Desperate to be helpful. As they walked through high hallways, she showed room after room full of people. The entire city seemed to have gathered here. ‘Everyone we could find’, Leslie informed Chris at one point, and he called back to Ben.  
“Isn’t this incredible? This is literally the most organised place we’ve visited!”  
For once, Ben didn’t think Chris was exaggerating.

Leslie (or should that be Ms Knope? Mrs?) was at the centre of it all. She had it all memorised; where everyone should be, at what time. And Ben had to admit to being grudgingly impressed by this, even if he did think bringing everyone to the same place was stupid. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if there was some sort of undead break in. He hoped Chris and he would be long gone by then.  
As they walked, they were joined by a nurse, introduced by Ms Knope (yes, that was better than Leslie) as the best in the world. That was quite possibly true. It was doubtful how many were left. At one point, she and Ben fell into step with one another, and he leaned over and asked her:  
“Who is, uh, Ms Knope? Is she in charge?”  
The nurse gave a half smile. “Leslie? Technically, she’s deputy director of the parks department. So technically, no, she’s not in charge. But basically, yes. Yes, she is.”  
“Oh.” He wasn’t entirely sure how to respond, so he slowed and resumed his place at the very back of the group.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .

They never finished the tour. A dull smacking of feet, rubber soles against the lino floor, announced the arrival of a small, sprinting man, panting desperately. Upon reaching them, he bent over, hands on his knees, and inhaling air desperately.  
“What is it, Tom? What is it?” Leslie was practically jumping, and the tone of her voice was very much the sort used to talk to dogs. In response, Tom just jabbed his thumb towards where he’d come from, where a moustachioed man was carrying something in his arms. Ben realised, with a sinking feeling, that it was a body.

Carefully, it was placed on the ground, and they surrounded it. Their circle was in turn surrounded by a thick silence, suffocating. The hush did not so much settle as invade. The man, the body, was young, with a bundle of curly black hair, and a rather odd variety of clothes – he seemed to have grabbed the gaudiest things he could find. His eyes were closed, and a still-expanding stain on the collar of his shirt gave some indication as to how he had gotten into his current position.

However, there was no indication as to how he – now, suddenly, an ‘it’ - got into its next position, which was sitting up, a tight hold around Ann’s wrist. Everyone recoiled, desperately. Except for Leslie, who lunged forward and hit the zombie – oh yes, the man definitely hadn’t had a miraculous recovery – squarely in the back. It was a nice idea, and indeed, it did let go of Ann, but nothing more was achieved. It turned, and lunged at Leslie, but it was still sitting down, and she hopped backwards. It began to manoeuvre clumsily onto its feet.

No one acted in this pause – this was a moment of preparation. Ben’s hand went to his belt, and he was relieved to find his gun there, although he was sure he would have noticed if the reassuring weight was missing. April drew a knife out from her boot, and stood with an unreadable grimace. The man with the moustache had numerous belts looped around himself, from which hung an assortment of weapons. He pulled at two guns at once. Chris had left his weapons of choice – two wooden sticks, from some martial art or another – in the boot of their car, but he readied himself to fight none the less, his hands curled too tightly into fists. Donna’s handgun was pink. Tom had a pistol, but his hands were shaking as he held it up.

There was no known, official way to get rid of a zombie; no confirmed method. The generally agreed way was to pummel it with whatever you had to hand, until it stopped moving. Then, probably burn it. Ben didn’t know what they did in Pawnee, after the thing was down, but getting to that stage seemed to be a universal instinct.

It all happened rather quickly. Shots were fired. Ben added to the noise (mainly people yelling) without thinking, firing in a general direction, without pausing long enough to aim. Resisting the recoil as much as he could made his arm ache, but still he held it up. Until, eventually, a bullet entered the creature’s temple, just above its left eyebrow, and continued going, leaving its head with a significant amount of gunk following behind, and travelling on towards the wall. Ben flinched.

Tom had fallen to his knees, hands curled into fists. He looked to the ceiling, and howled;  
“Jean Ralphioooo!” as though he were in some kind of action movie.

Ben wasn’t sure who had shot the bullet, but the man with the moustache clapped him on the back, almost causing him to double over.  
“Well done, son. Good job.”  
“Thanks?” Ben hazarded. Apparently it had been him who got the thing down. Fine. The man slung the body over his shoulder.  
“Let’s go.”

He, followed by Donna, April and Andy, went off, presumably to dispose of the thing’s remains. Leslie, who hadn't been armed, smiled at him.  
“Good job on the-” She made gun shapes with her hands, and pretended to be firing them “shooting thing.”  
“That’s okay.” he replied, his tone cooler than he intended it to be. The odd noises coming from Tom prevented a silence from properly falling. He seemed upset, but at the same time it was rather artificial. Plus, everyone else was ignoring him.

A beeping went off, and Ann jumped a little, looking at it.  
“Leslie, it’s eleven-”  
“Oh, time for basketball!” She seemed to have already forgotten about the showdown a moment ago “It’s very important to keep everyone healthy, so we’ve organised leagues in everything. Soccer, baseball, football, hockey, ice hockey- All inside this building, of course. Some work better than other.”  
“Basketball is literally my favourite sport,” said Chris “I cannot imagine anything better than watching the citizens of Pawnee play.”

***

Ben left halfway through the game. Pawnee was – well, let’s face it – not healthy. Not healthy at all. And by the fifth time the ball had completely missed the net, he’d given up. Plus, Tom was whimpering the whole time, and Ben had no idea how to react. Both to the emotion and the total lack of empathy people seemed to have. They’d just sat Tom down, and busied off, as though it didn’t matter. Ben got becoming desensitized, you really had to be, but even so.

Anyway, Ben had left. He’d found an empty office, somewhere on the third floor, and leaned on a desk, watching particles of dust spinning in a slanted beam of sunlight. It was quiet here; quiet throughout Pawnee, and in the contrast, he was reminded of the squeal of breaks and the cloud of red dirt he and Chris had left hanging in the air when they’d driven away from Bloomington. Months ago, now. Things had settled, just as the dust was beginning to. Ben dragged a finger along the keyboard of the computer he was sitting on, and found his fingerprint obscured by grey. He pulled a face.

It was odd, looking around the office. In the stillness, with the only light coming from the window, it all felt ancient, and natural. The computers were relics from a long-gone land; the chairs might as well have grown up out of the ground, like an odd metal plant. An actual plant, a cactus on the windowsill, was flowering. Upon standing up, Ben found the dust around him swirling faster, more desperately. He left, unwilling to change the room at a deeper level than the dust pattern, somehow afraid he would upset something in there.

Upon exiting, he almost crashed into Leslie Knope, who was marching quickly down the corridor. She had taken off her bandana thing, although she still had the thick black lines across her cheeks. She scarcely even looked at him:  
“Out of my way,” she said distractedly, already off. Huh. Next time, Ben wouldn’t save her life. He’d just let the zombie infect everyone in this weird city.

He needed to find Chris, get back to the car, and drive. He headed back to the room in which the basketball game had been happening, which had seemed to have been some kind of assembly room, primitively converted into a sports space, with fake-ornate metalwork still stuck to the walls, and a decor heavy on dark wood. It took him several minutes, but after several wrong turns, he found it. The game was still going painfully on, although most of the players seemed now to be pre-teen and far more interested in playing tag than basketball. However, there was no sign of Chris.

With a sigh, Ben retreated, resigning himself to more investigation of the terrifyingly painted halls of the building. Seriously terrifying. Gory and racist. And, presumably, true. He shuddered at that thought.

It was far busier now than it had been previously. People had left the rooms they had been organised into to sleep, and were now free to clog up the corridors. Could they not walk faster? A messy queue slunk outside the toilets, and a circle of children played with marbles and took up half the floor. There was no way this was practical. If just one zombie got in, as was clearly possible, then everyone would be gone within an afternoon. And long term, they’d soon run out of water, food. The electricity didn't seem to be on, so during winter they’d all begin to get very chilly. The best thing to do was scatter, stay in small groups, isolate yourself, whether that was by running away to some retreat in a forest, or just driving all day long, like he and Chris did. He resolved to explain this to Ms Knope before they left.

When he finally saw Chris, it was out of the corner of his eye, through a window. His stomach suddenly felt odd – outside! – but he then realised it was a courtyard, protected on all four sides. It was safe. Chris was sat with the man with the moustache.

Ben found a door, and entered. It hadn’t been long since he’d been outside (or maybe it had – how long had he been unconscious?) but the breeze, though slight, was refreshing. As he approached, Chris gave him a perky beam. The other man remained unmoved.  
“Ron was just telling me about the best ways to kill a deer.” Chris explained.  
“Oh,” said Ben, sliding into the seat next to him, without looking up.  
“By the way,” Chris continued quickly, without a breath. “I promised Leslie Knope we’d stay in Pawnee a while – they need more room and we’ve seen lots of different ways of doing it.”  
Ben started and turned, wide-eyed, to face his companion. “What? No. We need to keep moving. And that’s my advice to them too.”  
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Chris said, looking genuinely devastated. “You can tell Leslie that now, then.”

For indeed, Leslie Knope was approaching, arms full of folders. Ben couldn’t help noticing the way the sun shone on her blond curls; she looked slightly radiant. She was beaming crazily though.  
“I’m so excited for you to help us,” she said, dropping her files on the table. “I have so many ideas-”  
“That’s not going to happen, Ms Knope.” Ben interjected as quickly as he could. It was like being an auditor again. He was good at this. “Your plans for this city aren’t practical. If you keep everyone together like this, then eventually – well, everyone’s going to die.”  
She opened her mouth to protest, and he pressed on quickly.  
“My advice is give up. Get everyone out, tell them to go and find a cabin or something, and then leave yourself. This situation isn’t sustainable.”  
“But there isn’t anywhere else to go,” she replied forcefully. “As an employee of the Pawnee City Government, my job is to serve the citizens of Pawnee, and I’m not forsaking them!”  
“You work in the Parks department, Ms Knope. Your department is about as unimportant as it gets. Get out while you can.” He stood up. “That’s all I have to say, Ms Knope. Good day.”

He heard her offended gasp as he turned and left the courtyard, but he didn’t look back. You had to admire her passion though.

(After Ben had gone, Ron leaned over to Leslie. He looked gleeful – he had been complaining about being stuck in a building with hundreds of noisy people for weeks.  
“What’s a not gay way to ask him to go camping with me?”)


	3. Chapter 3

The day was deepening into evening – the sky was turning peach outside the firmly shut windows. The air in City Hall was stale after a hot and airless day. Ann, hungry after a long shift fielding questions from people who weren’t really ill, was on her way to get what she could to eat when she saw Leslie sitting alone on a bench. She paused, and made her way over to her friend, sitting down beside her.

Leslie was sat opposite a large mural; a meadow of wildflowers. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, Leslie smiled, looking down towards her feet.  
“This is my favourite place. I like to sit here and pretend-” She trailed off, and the unfinished sentence hung between them. _Pretend everything’s normal._  
Then, Leslie seemed to focus. “I keep thinking about what that jerk Ben said,” She frowned, and pushed her lips into a pout.  
Ann hesitated. “Which was?” she asked.  
“He wants us to do a Mark!”  
“Ah.” Ann understood. The ultimate betrayal in Leslie’s eyes – leaving Pawnee. She actually didn’t think that that was such a bad idea, herself. People were going to get really sick one of these days and there would be no way to stop it spreading. But she couldn’t tell Leslie that. “Yeah. How awful.”  
“I know! I mean I’m working on it. We are looking for a new place to move everyone-”  
“It would be good if we could find somewhere soon though,” Ann said. “It’s getting so crowded.”

  
Leslie leapt slightly at this, and Ann could recognise the signs that she’d just had an idea. “Oh, Ann, you heroic butterfly. I’m going to look now!”  
“Now? Uh, Leslie, it’ll be getting dark in half an hour.”  
“Pfft.” Leslie dismissed it, waving her hands. “Won’t mean Ben be surprised when he wakes up tomorrow and finds half the town gone.”  
“I’m sure he’ll also be surprised when he finds you gone. And by gone, I mean dead.” Ann raised her eyebrows.  
“I’ll take Ron – it’ll be fine.” She was already stood up, and off down the corridor, waving as she went. “Cancel my meetings.”

***

A few minutes later, Ann had her sandwich, when she spotted Ben standing alone, hands in his pockets, looking rather unhappy. She swallowed, and took pity on him:  
“Hey, Ben!”

He looked up, seeming surprised that someone was referring to him.  
“Hi.”  
“I just wanted to say thanks for standing up to Leslie. It really isn’t hygienic to keep everyone together in this place. So yeah.” She smiled, but he didn’t return it.  
“Thanks. It didn’t really seem to work though.”  
“Well, Leslie is stubborn. So stubborn. You have no idea.”  
“I have some.” Now he gave a half-hearted smirk, a little twitch of the mouth.  
“Yeah, I guess so.” Ann tried again to smile at him, but any trace of his disappeared. “You know,” Ann continued, when he didn’t respond. “She’s out right now looking for somewhere for everyone to go.”

Ben’s demeanour suddenly changed; he looked angry.  
“What? She’s just driving around on her own-”  
“No!” Ann felt slightly offended on Leslie’s behalf. “She’s not so stupid that she’d be alone. She’ll have taken the Parks department.” Then she paused. “Also, uh, she won’t be driving. We used all the fuel, so no cars.”  
He looked at her, disbelieving. “It’s getting dark, and they’re not in a car?”  
“Yes?”  
“Does she not realise that’s a death wish.” Ben shook his head, looked at his wrist out of habit, although his watch had long since been lost. “How long has she been gone?”  
“Well, uh, she had to find everyone, so maybe five minutes?”

Ben paused. He had some reluctant admiration for Leslie Knope, despite the fact that she was charging out into zombie territory which was clearly inhabited – they had been attacked that very morning. But she was dedicated, and he didn’t want her to die. Which she would.  
“My car has fuel.” he said, mostly thinking out loud. Yeah. His car had fuel. Okay. He started running – he’d been wandering around the building all afternoon, making sure he knew the exits in case everything went wrong. Which it would.

It took him five minutes to find his car, which he spent at a half-jog, gun clutched to his chest, but he fired it up and started looping around City Hall in wider and wider circles, through empty streets. A traffic light, still miraculously on, flicked through colours, impacting no one, directing no one. Cars, parked clumsily, protruding into the road, blocking up the unused sidewalks, were discarded like litter. There was still some light in the sky; a leaking stain of purple seeped from the horizon. He saw a figure detach itself from the darkness it was waiting in at one point and he slowed the car, but it lurched forwards and he could see the jutting of its jaw and the white blankness of its eyes and he sped up again.

He probably wouldn’t have seen the small band he was looking for if it wasn’t for Andy. Whilst pretending to have a swordfight, he fell out of the shadow they had carefully been walking through, and his trip was enough to catch Ben’s eye.

Ben drew to a halt and rolled down the window.  
“Get in,” he hissed, trying to keep quiet, and the group did without objection, which was more than he was hoping for. There were four of them other than Leslie. Andy, April, Ron and Donna, who had a baseball bat slung over her shoulder. They crowded into the backseat, with April ending up on Andy’s knee, whilst Leslie sat in the passenger seat. She looked gleeful.  
“I knew you’d come round!” she exclaimed, as Ben made sure the window was fully up again.  
“Nope,” he replied without looking at her. “We’re going back to City Hall.”  
Leslie muttered something that sounded like _jerk_ under her breath.  
Ben frowned, as he started to drive. “We were attacked this morning. It’s clearly not safe.”  
Ron leaned forward. “He does have a point Leslie. And you’re not very good at defence.”  
“Am too.” she said, crossing her arms and lapsing into a sulky silence.

The silence continued for a moment more, until April pressed her face to the window. It was dark, but the moon was bright enough that everything was clear, if black-and-white.  
“Is that that park ranger guy?” she asked, referring to a figure with curly hair. It was gone before anyone had a chance to comment, but they continued talking about him, although Ben only half listened.  
“I thought he was in City Hall. Because, y’know, the voice.”  
“I haven’t seen him for a while though-”  
“Well, it wouldn’t surprise me if he got... made to leave.”  
“He was so loud.”

“This isn’t the way.” Leslie said at one point, and it took Ben a moment to realise she was talking to him. “Go left.”  
He was left alone for the rest of the journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I like the idea behind this, and I know where I'm going and there's more I want to write about, but I don't like where I started from, so I'm going to leave it unfinished indefinitely.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, some of this writing is really lazy, and I apologise for any mistakes! Still, it's fun and I hope to update soon.


End file.
